Jesus, Remember Me

Feast of Christ the King

Cycle C

How do you want to be remembered?

Many people worry about how they will be remembered. It’s a big deal to them. They pay millions of dollars to have their names inscribed on buildings, they set up foundations with their names attached so that the world will remember them as good benefactors, long after they’ve gone. They erect impressive tombstones that will last for centuries, their names carved deep into the granite. Is that how you want to be remembered?

Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

We don’t want to be left behind. There’s a series of wildly popular books out, the “Left Behind” series, that deals with what may happen during the last days, when the world will be in turmoil before the second coming of the Lord. They have sold millions of copies in dozens of languages. Why are people so enthralled about what will happen during the last days? Why are we so worried about being left behind?

On this last Sunday of the liturgical year, we look forward to the coming of the kingdom. We utter our own hopes for life with Jesus, just like the good thief did on his cross.

But who remembered Jesus on that Good Friday?

Jesus was totally abandoned on the cross. The only person who believed in him was a murderer, a criminal who wasn’t even one of his followers. How did Jesus feel when someone, anyone, finally expressed some belief in him during those horrible last moments? It must have been almost as painful for Jesus to see his friends run away as it was to undergo such horrific torture. The people he had come to save had rejected him. His own best friends had abandoned him. Was his mission a failure? Was there any hope at all that the world could be saved?

Yet, a common criminal showed faith in Jesus. “Any chance you could put in a good word for me? Just in case?” Jesus’ own closest friends, James and John, had asked that they be placed one on his right hand and one on his left, in the kingdom. He didn’t give it to them. However, this loser has the audacity to ask for the same thing, and Jesus gives it to him. For whatever reason, whether he truly believed that Jesus was who he said he was or if he was just covering his bases, the good thief’s request gave Jesus the hope he needed.

“You will be with me in paradise. Yes, there is a paradise and we will soon be in it. There is hope, for both of us.” We end this year with a message of hope. Just as Jesus was given hope on the cross, we are given hope because of that cross.

Jesus saw that hope in the plea of someone who needed him, someone who was completely hopeless himself.  The good thief’s request got Jesus’ mind off his own sufferings. He could perform one last miracle. He could show mercy to someone who didn’t deserve it. He could offer salvation to one of the very people he had come to save. The thief got it. He got the message. Jesus’ mission on earth had not been a failure. And if someone who had not been one of his followers got it, there must be lots of other folks who got it, too. There really is a kingdom.

Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.

This is the Feast of Christ the King. Yet, what a strange king we have. Kings have thrones. Jesus had a cross. Kings have crowns of gold. Jesus had a crown of thorns. Kings have a court of attendants to wait upon them. Jesus’ friends all ran away. Kings have rings of gold on their fingers. Jesus had nails driven into his hands. Kings receive accolades. Jesus was mocked by everyone, even by the guy hanging next to him.

We don’t do kings well in America. In fact, we fought a long war of independence to get rid of the yoke of kings. We chafe against anyone and anything that curtails our freedoms. But how do we see freedom? Is it just being able to do what we want without interference? That’s not freedom, that’s license.

Jesus is a different kind of king. He doesn’t take away our freedom, he gives it back to us. By humbling himself on that cross, Jesus showed us what real freedom is. Freedom in the kingdom of God is freedom from sin, freedom from the shackles of our own selfish humanity, freedom from death.

People in Jesus’ day understood what it meant to have a king. Everything they owned could be forfeit at his command. Their very lives were in his hands. At his whim they could be put to death. Signs of the emperor’s influence were everywhere, from the heavy taxes he levied against them to his ever-present legions of troops. To them, the emperor was the center of their lives, whether they liked it or not.

Who are our kings today? Around what does your life revolve?

Do we embrace the cross or just work ever harder for the comforts of this life? Do we resent our sufferings or enter into them, joining them with those of Jesus, to give them meaning? Many enter this season of Advent with feelings of hope and joy. But many others approach it with dread. For some it is a time of great loneliness. Perhaps they lost a spouse, or parent, or close friend this year and this will be the first Christmas without them. Maybe they’re out of work and fear they won’t be able to provide their family with even the basics of a Christmas celebration. Maybe they are very ill and realize this will probably be their last Christmas. They long for a sense of hope.

Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.

Jesus understands these feelings. He understands loneliness, fear, and death. He experienced them. He conquered them. The message of today’s gospel is that no matter how hopeless things seem, we will not be forgotten. How could Jesus forget us? The same good shepherd who would leave the 99 sheep to find the lost one would never forget us. The same Lord who showed mercy to the good thief on his cross will show mercy to us as well.

We won’t be left behind.